


High School Reunion

by theoofoof



Series: Barson Tropes [2]
Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: F/M, School Reunion, Tropes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-21
Updated: 2018-04-21
Packaged: 2019-04-25 21:03:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14387079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theoofoof/pseuds/theoofoof
Summary: Things heat up between Olivia and Rafael when she accompanies him to his high school reunion





	High School Reunion

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by rewatching 14x16: Funny Valentine and Barba's comment about the girl he'd d been 'in love' with in 11th grade. I expected it to just be a couple of thousand words, but it turned into a mammoth fic of over 7k. Ooops!
> 
> Thanks to motherbearof03 for her beta skills and music recommendations.

“Morning Carmen,” Olivia Benson greeted Rafael Barba’s assistant as she entered the ADA’s outer office. She nodded at the door that bore his name. “He in?”

“He is. But he’s…” Not wanting to appear unprofessional, Carmen searched for an appropriate phrase. “…not himself. He’s more sullen than usual and he’s snapped at me at least five times this morning.”

“He’s grumpy then? Sounds fairly normal to me,” quipped Olivia, sharing a smirk with the harangued assistant. She herself had spoken to him on the phone about an hour ago and he didn’t sound very happy. Olivia had put that down to the fact that his latest verdict hadn’t gone their way. So, she’d decided to pay him a little visit to try and cheer him up

“Well, I won’t argue with that,” Carmen smiled wryly. “But today…” she sighed. “I don’t know… it’s worse. Not even coffee has helped.”

Olivia patted the younger woman’s arm as she passed her. “Don’t worry; I’ll take him for lunch and get him out of your hair for a while.”

Carmen smiled gratefully. “Thank you.”

Olivia knocked on Rafael’s door, opened it and strode right in.

“You know, most people wait to be invited in,” Rafael said, not lifting his eyes from the notepad he was scribbling on. After almost six years, he’d recognise his best friend’s knock anywhere.

“Yeah? Good job I’m not ‘most people’ then, isn’t it?” She rounded his desk and perched on the edge. “Carmen was right, you _are_ grumpier than usual today. What’s up?”

“Carmen should be careful if she wants to keep her job,” he grumbled, ignoring her question.

“You’d never fire her. You’d be lost without her,” Olivia pointed out.

It was true; Carmen was the best assistant he’d ever had, and he wouldn’t fire her. He was just in a bad mood and, unfortunately, taking it out on those around him.

“What can I do for you, anyway?” Rafael asked. “I told you on the phone, I can’t get you a warrant based on what you have now, you need to-”

“I know. Fin and Rollins are working on it. I came to take you to lunch.”

He pushed his chair back from his desk and made to stand, but Olivia placed a hand on his shoulder and pushed him back down.

“But before we get to that, I want to know what’s bothering you?”

Rafael sighed as he flopped back into the chair. “You’re like a dog with a bone, you know that?”

“It’s what makes me so good at my job,” she grinned. “So, come on. Spill.”

“Fine!” He tossed his gold pen onto the desk and reached into his top drawer. “This arrived in the mail this morning.” He handed her a small envelope.

She took it from him and removed the thick, embossed card that lay inside, skim-reading the print. “Your high school reunion?”

“Thirty years.” He leaned his head back onto the chair. God, when had he got so old?

“This is what’s put you in a bad mood? A chance of a night out,” she glanced back at the invitation, “with free food and an open bar?”

“No. It’s just reminded me how old I am and brought back some memories I’d rather forget. I have no intention of actually attending.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m not a masochist,” replied Rafael. He turned his head towards her. “My high school days were not the best days of my life. So, why bother? I wouldn’t have any fun.”

“People don’t go to their high school reunion to have fun,” Olivia pointed out. “They go to find out how messed up their old classmates are. They go for revenge.”

Rafael snorted. “I stand by what I said a few years ago, motherhood has definitely brought out your sweet side.”

“Ha! Mothers are fierce creatures. Surely you, of all people, know that?”

He did. You did not cross Lucia Barba, not unless you wanted to be ripped to shreds. That was another part of his problem. His mother’s charter school worked closely with his old high school. If she got wind of the reunion, he’d never hear the end of his decision not to go.

“Rafa, how many of your graduating class won a scholarship to Harvard and became one of the top ADAs in Ney York?” Olivia pressed.

He merely raised an eyebrow in response, as if the answer should be obvious. While he might not have the athletic traits needed to get a scholarship to a private high school, when it came to colleges his GPA had allowed him to have his pick of Ivy League institutions.

“I rest my case. You did well Rafa; go show them that.”

“While that might be fun for a few minutes…” Leaning forward, elbows on the desk, he met Olivia’s gaze directly. If she was going to push this, then he was going to have to push back hard to get her to drop the subject. “I haven’t got a date.” With a satisfied smirk, he sat back in his chair, confident that she would now drop the issue.  

He was challenging her, and Olivia was not one to back down from a challenge. She shrugged. “I’ll go with you. I’ve not had a night out in months. I’m sure Amanda will watch Noah, Jesse’s been dying to have him sleep over. Besides, it’ll give me an excuse to buy a new dress.” She hopped down from the corner of his desk. “Now come on, before someone takes our seats at Forlini’s.”

Rafael stood and followed her, acting on autopilot as the implications of what just happened sunk in. That had not gone as he had planned.

* * *

Olivia jumped at the knock at the door. She glanced at the clock on the bookcase. 7.00. That was Rafael; always on time. Despite this being her idea, she’d been nervous about it all day. Noah had provided a welcome distraction until Amanda and Jesse had picked him up, but then, as Olivia had begun to get ready, her nervousness increased. Once dressed, she’d stood in front of the mirror for a good twenty minutes trying to decide if her outfit – a strapless, floor-length gown with a vivid red rose and silver pattern – was too much for a high school reunion. She’d considered changing, but the invitation had said black-tie and besides, she didn’t dare deviate from her planned outfit in case Rafael was planning to coordinate with a coloured bow-tie or pocket square.

She’d given herself a stern talking to then, telling herself to stop being so ridiculous – there was nothing to be nervous about. He was only taking her because she’d practically invited herself. Hell, that was probably the only reason he was attending. But then, he’d had plenty of chances to cancel on her, to tell her that he’d reverted to his original idea of not going. She’d even given him a clear opportunity last night as they were leaving the office, checking that they were still on and confirming what time he was picking her up. But he hadn’t backed out. He’d merely flashed her a smile, told her that he’d be there at seven and asked what colour dress she was planning on wearing. She could almost fool herself into thinking that he was actually looking forward to having her as his date. No, that way madness lay, she told herself. Best to assume the worst. Even though she hoped for the best.

She was jolted out of her reverie by a second knock. Realising she’d left him standing outside her apartment, she hurried to the door. Taking a deep breath, she swung it open to reveal Rafael stood there, dressed in his best tuxedo – complete with red pocket square – holding a small, white box.

“Hi,” she greeted, her eyes flickering over his body, appreciating the sight of him in black tie.

Unbeknownst to Olivia, Rafael was appraising her in the same way and also liking what he saw. He let out a breath. “Wow! You look amazing Liv.”

She lifted her eyes to meet his. The look she found there made her blush. If she didn’t know better, she’d think it was desire. “Th-thanks.” She stepped back to let him cross the threshold, and the door swung closed behind him with a soft click.

He stood just inside her door, shuffling from foot to foot, holding out the box he was holding. “This… is for you.”

Olivia’s brow furrowed as took the box from him and untied the silver ribbon. She lifted the lid to reveal a beautiful wrist corsage of small red roses interspersed with silver pearls and crystal-studded silver hoops, attached to a silver bracelet. That explained why he’d asked about her dress; this matched almost perfectly.

“Rafa, it’s beautiful, but why?”

“Well…” he averted his gaze, looking down at his shoes. “I never went to my prom, so I thought...” he trailed off with a shrug.

“Thank you.” She held out her arm. “Will you put it on for me?”

He took the corsage back from her and fastened the bracelet around her wrist. His fingers skimmed over her skin as he did so, and she shivered, unable to suppress the warm tingle that raced up her arm at his touch.

“Shall we?” he asked, holding out his arm.

She turned, grabbed her clutch and shawl and tucked her hand over his forearm in silent agreement allowing him to lead her out of the door.

* * *

Rafael’s heart was pounding as their Uber pulled up outside his old school. Not because he was worried or apprehensive about the event. No, it was because of his proximity to the vision that was Olivia Benson. Her hair was swept up in a chignon, with tendrils falling around her face. The dress she was wearing hugged her curves and shimmered in the light when she moved. It showed off an ocean of bare skin across her neck and shoulders, as well as a teasing amount of cleavage. He ached to be closer to her, to touch her.

He got his chance moments offering her his arm as they got out of the car. Olivia looped her arm through his and they walked around to the gymnasium where the reunion was being held. He pulled the heavy wooden door and held it open for her.

“After you,” he said, trying desperately to calm himself as they entered.

Tables and chairs had been brought in and set up around the outside, with a bar in one corner. Someone had expended time and effort to decorate the place, draping white and silver fabric from the ceiling to give the illusion of a marquee. They’d also hung paper lanterns, lights and glittery streamers. While Rafael was at the registration table, Olivia wandered over to where a series of portable screens had been set up. Pictures – enlargements of yearbook photos – were pinned to them, without names. The idea being to search until you found your picture or that of someone you knew.

She searched the board, spotting a young Alex Muñoz first. Thank goodness he was still serving his sentence for possession of child pornography; she didn’t fancy running into him tonight. The, scanning further down the board, she found him. A sixteen-year-old Rafael Barba stared back at her, looking as though he'd rather be anywhere else than in front of a camera. He hadn’t changed so much. His features were still soft, unfinished. An adolescent on the cusp of adulthood, with the promise of the handsome man he would become still veiled in the inexperience of youth.

“Who're you looking for?” someone asked.

Olivia turned her head. A large man around Rafael’s age – who hadn’t aged nearly as well – stood beside her. “Rafael Barba, but I’ve found him.”

“‘Barba the Brain’ is here?” The man snorted with laughter, and Olivia could smell alcohol on his breath. “And you’re with him? How much is he paying you?”

Olivia’s eyes snapped to his. “Excuse me?”

“Ignore him,” interjected a new voice. “Frank here’s got all the sensitivity of a blunt axe, and that’s when he’s sober.”

Frank lurched away, leaving Olivia alone with a pretty woman, wearing a floor-length, royal blue gown, her long blonde hair done in a top knot, with tendrils falling to frame her face. She held out a hand. “Hi. I’m Lauren Sullivan. Are you here with Rafael?”

Olivia shook the woman’s hand, trying to remember why her name seemed familiar. “Yes, I am. I’m Olivia.”

“Lauren!” Rafael approached, pulling his old friend into a hug. “You look great. You haven’t aged a day!”

As he placed a kiss on her cheek, Olivia realised where she knew the name. It was one of their first cases together; Mischa Green – the teenage pop star who wouldn’t testify when her boyfriend Caleb Bryant beat her. They’d been walking to the courthouse and Rafael had asked her if she’d ever been in love like that and confessed that Lauren Sullivan could have massacred his entire family and he’d have looked the other way.

Olivia forced herself to smile, hating the feeling of jealousy that had settled in her stomach. She told herself she was being ridiculous. So, Rafael had been in love with this girl, but that was thirty years ago. It had no bearing on them, now, given their new-found closeness. She couldn’t say exactly when things shifted, but she and Rafael were skirting the edges of a more intimate relationship. They were spending more time together than ever before with lunch dates, and dinners at her place. Then there were the evenings where they ended up curled up together on her couch watching films or binging on Netflix shows.

Rafael’s past with Lauren, was just that, the past. She told herself it didn’t mean anything. Even if Lauren was petite, blonde and beautiful. It was ancient history.

Rafael turned to Olivia, but his arm stayed wrapped around Lauren’s waist. “Liv, this is Lauren Sullivan; the sole reason I didn’t flunk Chemistry.”

Olivia managed a tight smile.

Lauren turned to Rafael, placing a hand on his chest. “You’d have scraped through… maybe.” Her attention was caught by movement over Rafael’s shoulder. “Oh. Will you excuse me?  I am being summoned.” She nodded to a group of women by the registration table. “I'll find you two later, okay? We’ll catch up.”

* * *

They got through meal relatively unscathed. The few of his classmates who had approached had been low key and polite, if slightly curious. Olivia poured on the charm and Rafael marvelled at her ability to converse with – and be civil to – every person they ran across, no matter how crass or unappealing. He supposed it was a pre-requisite of her job. She had to protect and serve all people, whether she liked them or not.

After they’d eaten, while Rafael went to the bar to get drinks, Olivia found herself alone in the company of Lauren Sullivan, who she had learned was an illustrator of children's books. She made small talk, asking for the names of some of the titles the other woman had illustrated. She jotted them down on a napkin, intending to look them up and see if they’d be something that Noah would be interested in. She may not be a fan of the woman, but she wouldn’t be outright rude. Besides, she was always on the lookout for new books for Noah – anything to hold his interest in reading when computer games were becoming rather more appealing.

“So, what do you do?” Lauren asked, taking a sip of her wine.

Olivia closed her clutch after putting the scribbled-on napkin away. “I’m a police officer.”

“So that’s how you met Rafael?”

She nodded. “He’s been the ADA attached to my division for the past five years.”

“ _Your_ division? So, you’re not _just_ a police officer then”

“I’m a lieutenant,” she admitted, “with the Manhattan Special Victims Unit.”

“Wow!”

“So, you and Rafael met in high school?”

“Yeah. I started in ninth grade. Rafael offered me a seat in the cafeteria on my first day. We ended up as lab partners in all our science classes.” She glanced sideways at Olivia as if appraising her. “I was his first girlfriend. By default, I guess; he didn’t have many friends and I was the only girl. I taught him how to kiss.” Lauren laughed gently at her memories. “He was a quick learner and a great kisser. I'll bet he's even better now. And if he's half as good a lover as he is a kisser, you're a very lucky woman, Olivia.”

“Oh, no… we’re not…” She looked down at her hands, which had knotted themselves together in her lap. She wished Rafael would hurry up at the bar and save her from this conversation.

“Oh, sorry.” Lauren leaned forward in her chair. “I just assumed… it’s obvious you’re attracted to him.”

Olivia’s eyes snapped to hers. She tried so hard to mask her feelings for him. Clearly, she wasn’t being as successful as she assumed. On second thoughts, maybe it would be better if Rafael stayed away a bit longer, save he hear something he shouldn’t.

Lauren smiled knowingly. “Don’t worry, knowing Rafael, he hasn’t noticed. Even though he’s clearly just as smitten,” she said. “He never looked at me, the way he looks at you.”

Olivia let out a dismissive sigh. “You were seventeen…”

“Ah, so he told you about me then, before tonight?”

“He, uh, might have mentioned you.”

“Well, that explains the slightly frosty reception.”

Olivia blushed. Her ability to school her features was clearly lacking tonight. “I’m sorry. I…”

Lauren waved her off with a warm smile. “It’s okay. Look, Rafael and I were kids when we dated. We’re different people now. Besides, I’m happily married.”

“Oh. I didn’t realise…” She gestured at Lauren, “you’re here alone… I guess I thought…”

“Yeah, Tom’s working. He’s a doctor at Mercy Hospital. It’s long hours, but he’s passionate about what he does. I couldn’t ask him to give it up; it’s one of the reasons I love him so much.” She pulled out her phone and swiped through a few photos before turning the screen towards Olivia.

“You look happy.”

“We are,” nodded Lauren. “So, you see, you have nothing to worry about when it comes to Rafael and me.”

“I’m not worried,” Olivia lied. “I told you, we’re not…”

“Why the hell not?”

“We work together.

“And?”

“There’d be a conflict of interest… and like Tom, he’s passionate about the work he does. I couldn’t put him in a position where he had to quit. I couldn’t do that to Rafael.”

“Did I hear my name?”

They looked up to see Rafael approaching. Olivia glanced at Lauren, who gave a slight nod. “I was just telling Olivia about the time you were hit in the side of the head by a basketball.”

Rafael groaned as he placed their drinks on the table. “Gee, thanks, Lauren. I'm sure she really needed to know about that.”

“Relax, I haven't told her any of the juicy stuff.”

“And you’re not going to,” Rafael held out a hand to Olivia. “Shall we dance?”

“To this?” she asked, wrinkling her nose and gesturing at the DJ booth. “That’s kind of ironic, don’t you think?”

Rafael hadn’t been paying attention to what was playing, he just wanted to get Olivia away from the many embarrassing stories Lauren could tell her. Well, that and he’d been dying to hold her in his arms since they arrived. Lauren’s penchant for gossip was the perfect excuse. So, when he stopped and actually listened to the song, he couldn’t help but smirk.

 _She drives me crazy like no one else_  
_She drives me crazy, and I can't help myself_

“Quite appropriate, I would say,” he countered, earning him a raised eyebrow.

Lauren looked between the two of them. “Am I missing something?”

Rafael shook his head. “Just _Mami_ and her _loco_ imagination.”

Lauren was still confused but decided to let it be. It was clearly an inside joke, and they weren’t usually very funny unless you were involved somehow.

Moments later the song changed to one of Olivia’s favourites, _Take My Breath Away_. The movie that it came from, _Top Gun_ was one of her favourites as a teenager – an escape from the realities of growing up with an alcoholic mother, so the soundtrack, and this one song in particular, was a favourite too.

“Ah now, this is more like it,” she said, standing and holding out her hand to Rafael. “If the offer is still open, that is?”

In response, Rafael wrapped his fingers hers and led her onto the dancefloor.

“You do know,” Olivia continued as they made their way through the tables hand-in-hand, “this won’t stop me from finding out about the ‘juicy stuff’ Lauran mentioned, don’t you? I’ll just-”

Her words were cut off as Rafael pulled her into his arms and began to skillfully manoeuvre them around the dancefloor. Olivia was impressed; he moved well to the music and didn’t step on her toes – she supposed she had his Cuban heritage to thank for that.

“Rafa, I have a whole new level of respect for you,” Olivia said, as they swayed gently to the music.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“You survived high school with these people,” she gestured around the room, “without going mad.”

“I told you they were some of the worst years of my life.”

“I thought you were exaggerating.”

Rafael raised an eyebrow.

“What? It has been known,” she teased. “But after this, I'll never doubt your word again.”

“Never?” he teased. “So, next time I tell you you’ve not got enough evidence for a warrant, you’re actually going to believe me? That should make life easier,” he smirked.

She smacked him lightly on the shoulder. “Well, hardly ever. I'm sorry I insisted you come. I had no idea…”

He shook his head. “It's okay. I'm starting to enjoy myself,” he said, curling their arms inward, bringing Olivia’s hand to rest on his chest. As _Take My Breath Away_ , segued into Madonna’s _Crazy for You_ , her other hand slid slowly up his arm and across his shoulder, finally ending up cupping the back of his neck. He sucked in a deep breath, and felt her step closer, pressing her body against his. He moaned softly before he could stop it and her head snapped up as though she'd just realised what she was doing.

She made to pull away, but he shook his head as he tightened his grip on her waist and pulled her firmly back into him. She gazed up at him, smiling and Rafael willed himself not to react. But it was to no avail; he felt the stirring in his groin as his body betrayed him.

Olivia felt Rafael’s arousal press against her and her mind from drifted back to Lauren’s comment about him being as a good a lover as he was a kisser. Despite what she’d told Lauren, all the reasons that she and Rafael couldn’t be together, she wanted to know what it would feel like to kiss him, to make love with him.

Their eyes locked, and it was as if the rest of the room had disappeared and they were the only two left. It seemed there was an invisible force drawing them together, as natural as magnetism. As their lips neared each other’s, the music changed, and Madonna’s sultry voice faded out, replaced by a more upbeat, disco track. The opening bars of Kenny Loggins’ _Footloose_ triggered a rush of bodies on the dance floor, pushing past Rafael and Olivia, jolting them.

The moment broken, and the dance floor now full of loud, boisterous drunks, Rafael stepped away from Olivia and cleared his throat.

“I… erm… I could do with a drink. You want one?”

Air left her lungs in a rush that almost made her light headed as disappointment surged through her. “Sure. Sounds good.”

They drank some more and ended up dancing the night away. Olivia couldn't remember the last time she'd had such a good time. Although she was slightly disappointed that the opportunity to be as close as they had been while dancing earlier never arose again. Still, they enjoyed themselves; laughing with each other and traded embarrassing high school stories.

As the night wore on, attendees began to leave and eventually, the festivities died down. Olivia and Rafael were only one of a handful of people left.

He looked down at her. "Ready to go?" he asked.

“Yeah. If you are?” It was his reunion after all.

“I think I’ve seen enough of ‘Cardinal Spellman’s Class of 88 to last me another thirty years.” He took his phone from his pocket. “I’ll order us an Uber.”

They collected her clutch and her shawl from their table, before bidding farewell to Lauren. She extended an invitation for Rafael and Olivia to join her and Tom for dinner one evening, so numbers were exchanged and promises to text made.

Rafael draped Olivia’s shawl over her shoulders and then left his arm there as he steered her out into the parking lot. She didn't protest this continued contact, so he ran with it, hoping to maybe reclaim the closeness of earlier in the evening.

He opened the door of their waiting Uber for her and then went around and slid into the opposite side, sighing loudly as he relaxed into the leather. "Thank you for coming with me, Liv.”

“No problem. Thanks for inviting me.”

“I seem to remember you inviting yourself,” he retorted, with a smirk.

“You could have always refused.”

“Never.” He shook his head lightly. “I wouldn’t have had half as good a time if you hadn’t been here.”

He reached across the back seat and laid his hand on hers. It was only intended to be a quick pat, but Olivia’s fingers curled around his, holding him there. The rest of the journey back to Olivia’s apartment passed in comfortable silence.

When the car pulled up across the street from Olivia’s building, Rafael jumped out and rounded the front of the car in order to open her door for her. She gracefully accepted the offer of his hand to help her out.

“Such a gentleman,” she teased, looking up at him.

He shrugged. “Just doing as my Abuelo taught me. But don’t tell everyone yeah? I have a reputation to uphold you know.” Olivia chuckled, and he interlaced their fingers, gently tugging her down the sidewalk. “Come on, I’ll walk you up.”

“You don’t have to,” she protested.

“I know,” he said softly, holding her gaze.

* * *

Olivia unlocked the apartment door and stepped inside. Rafael expected her to turn back to him and wish him goodnight, but was surprised when she asked, “You want a coffee?”

“Sure.” He smiled and followed her inside. He took a seat on the couch, admiring Noah’s latest Lego creations while Olivia made her way into the kitchen.

She busied herself making the coffee, trying to calm her nerves. She wanted him here; she’d invited him in. Hell, he’d been in her apartment more times than she could count, but tonight was different. She'd started this evening with a firm reprimand to herself not to expect anything. She'd reminded herself that he simply needed a date and she was available. However, his actions throughout the evening had her wondering. He'd been especially attentive. He'd joked with her, teased her, and flirted with her. To top that off, she was sure she felt his arousal when they were dancing. That had been a total surprise – while she’d hoped he found her attractive, she never imagined he actually would. It had awakened something inside her that had been long dormant. She excited him, and that very fact excited her. She shivered involuntarily remembering his voice sliding into her ear as they danced.

“I see the toy box has been upgraded from decorative to useful,” he quipped as she re-entered the living room carrying two steaming cups.

“Always with the jokes.” She handed him his coffee and sat down next to him. Putting her cup down on the table, she removed a shoe and began rubbing her foot, sore as it was from all the dancing in her dressy, yet uncomfortable shoes.

Rafael took a small sip from his mug and winced as the hot liquid hit the inside of his mouth. He placed his mug next to hers on the table and lifted her foot into his lap, rubbing it to help soothe the ache.

"Trust me," he reassured her, seeing the look of alarm on her face. "I know what I'm doing."

Olivia turned slightly, so she could rest her legs on the couch and her calves on his lap. She watched as Rafael began to gently massage her foot. His hands were warm and surprisingly soft, and she soon found herself relaxing into his touch. He ran his fingertips over each toe and the top of her feet, kneading slowly and then backwards, so he was touching the sole of her feet.

"You're not ticklish," he observed when she didn’t flinch, not taking his eyes off what he was doing.

"Not my feet, no."

"Which implies you may be ticklish elsewhere.”

"Not necessarily. And even if I am, I'm not telling you."

“What, you don’t trust me?”

She raised an eyebrow, earning a chuckle from Rafael. They lapsed into silence again as Rafael dragged his thumb firmly along the sole of her foot and her toes curled as he loosened sore muscles. After a few moments, he turned his attention to her other foot and Olivia’s gaze shifted away from his hands. He'd shed his jacket and undone his black bowtie, but it was still threaded through the collar of his shirt, which was open at the neck. His sleeves were rolled to his elbows too, giving him a rather dishevelled appearance. And he wore it extremely well.

Rafael’s hands moved to her ankles, kneading the skin there lightly and Olivia leaned back, resting her head on the arm of the sofa and closed her eyes. The touch of his hands on her skin felt nice, more like a caress than a massage. She bit back a moan as his fingers trailed higher, under the hem of her dress and up her calf.

As his hands travelled under her skirt, Rafael bit his lip. Caressing her bare skin was affecting him more than he’d like. Just like when he pressed against her on the dancefloor. He wondered whether this was such a good idea but found he couldn’t stop himself. He couldn’t believe that she was allowing him to touch her like this. Olivia rarely allowed herself to be vulnerable with anyone and, selfish as it may have been, he wanted to drag the opportunity out for as long as he could.

He sucked in a breath as Olivia let out a soft moan.

"Feel good?" he asked, his voice was slightly lower and rougher than usual.

Olivia’s eyes snapped to his. “Yeah,” she whispered, her voice breathy and husky.

Her response encouraged him to continue. He returned his attention back to her legs, his eyes drawn to the pale skin that was revealed as his caresses lifted her dress further. As his fingers ghosted over the crease at the top of her calves, he lifted her legs and scooted closed to her, settling her knees over his lap, with the backs of her thighs against the side of his legs. As he did so, Olivia’s calf brushed his crotch and she felt, again, what she had when they were dancing. Her eyes snapped open and looked at him.

His eyes slipped closed and he took a shuddering deep breath. He was trying to appear unruffled, but he couldn’t fool Olivia, she’d known him too long. A light sweat had broken out on his brow and his lower lip was swollen from where he’d been raking his teeth over it. His hand stilled but remained in place just above her knee.

Knowing how affected he was by their current position, gave Olivia a boost of confidence. She shifted again, deliberately this time, making sure to skim his arousal as she did so.

“Liv…” he growled, a hint of warning in his voice.

She pushed herself up into a sitting position; the movement causing him to open his eyes and glance at her. Assuming he had made her uncomfortable, he stuttered an apology.

“I… I’m sorry Liv, I… I shouldn’t have-”

“Rafa.” Holding his gaze, she knelt up on the couch and moved to straddle his lap.

“Liv, what are you-“

She silenced him with two fingers to his lips. “Sshhh.” She cupped his face in her hands and pressed her lips to his, finishing what they started on the dance floor.

Rafael let out a hiss of excitement as she kissed him, his mouth opening under her ministrations. Her hot tongue plunged inside, raking the sides of his teeth and tickling the roof of his mouth. He moaned, and she answered him in kind, deepening this kiss and working on his shirt buttons.

Rafael’s brain finally caught up with what was happening, and he lifted his hands to her shoulders. He pushed her back, breaking the kiss.

“Wait,” he gasped. “What are we doing?”

She raised an eyebrow. “If you have to ask that then I’m clearly not doing this right.” She leant back in, but he pulled away again.

“I’m serious, Liv.”

“You seriously want to talk about this now?” she asked.

“I want this Liv, you have to know that,” he whispered.

There was need in his gaze, but also concern and confusion. His body was clearly communicating that he wanted to take things further, but he couldn’t shut off the rational part of his brain.

He moved his hand from her shoulder to her face, caressing her cheek. “I just need to know this isn’t the alcohol talking. That you’re not going to regret this later.”

She shook her head. “I’m won’t. God Rafa… I’ve wanted this… you for… well, let’s just say it’s been a while.”

“Me too,” he admitted. “But I didn’t want to ruin our friendship if you…”

“Didn’t feel the same,” Olivia finished for him. “I know. But it seems we’re both okay with this, so…” When she drew her bottom lip between her teeth, Rafael gave into the urge to pull it into his mouth and run his tongue across it.

A low, thick moan rumbled in her throat and Olivia shifted closer, grinding against his arousal. He groaned at the contact and his hands slid up into her hair to deepen the kiss. Her hands returned to the buttons on his shirt and she soon had it open to his waist, revealing his undershirt.

Olivia let out an exasperated groan. “Has anyone ever told you, you wear far too many clothes?”

“Not recently, no.”

He caught her gaze and she understood; he hadn’t been with anyone else in quite a while. Because of how he felt about her.

“Maybe we should take this somewhere a little more comfortable?” Olivia suggested, her fingers stroking his stomach, her nails raking over the taut fabric.

“You sure?” Rafael breathed. Kissing and making out on the couch was one thing, going to her bedroom was another step. He had to know this was definitely what she wanted.

She smiled warmly. “I wouldn’t have suggested it if I wasn’t.” She stood from his lap and held out a hand. “I want this Rafa, I want you.”

“Well, who am I to deny a lady what she wants.” He took her hand and stood, allowing her to lead him down the hall, to her bedroom.

* * *

Olivia woke the next morning to an empty bed, and for a moment disappointment surged within her, but then she noticed the dress shoes in the corner and the smell of coffee being made. He hadn’t left. She scolded herself for thinking he would have. Hadn’t he made it clear last night that this was something he had wanted and wouldn’t regret?

 _‘Reality can be a lot different from how we imagine it though,’_ goaded her subconscious.

Olivia shook off that thought as she stretched languidly, feeling the delicious ache in her body that reminded her just how wonderfully used it had been. The sex had been good. Really good, she thought with a smile. Her sheets smelled of it and when she turned her head into the pillow, she smelt Rafael there, the faint traces of his cologne clinging to the fabric.

Sitting up, she combed her fingers through her mussed hair and swung her legs out of bed. Spying Rafael’s dress shirt, lying crumpled on the floor, she drew it on, buttoning it to just above her breasts, and retrieved a clean pair of panties from the dresser. She made a quick stop in the bathroom; using the toilet, brushing her teeth and pulling her back before making her way into the kitchen. She wanted to look halfway decent when greeting Rafael.

As well as coffee, Rafael had scrambled some eggs and was stood at the counter in his dress pants and undershirt, buttering several slices of toast.

“Hey,” he said with a smile as she entered.

“Hey yourself.” She sidled up next to him at the counter.

He put the knife down and licked the butter off his thumb, before leaning over and kissing her. “Good morning.” He pulled her to stand in front of him, pressing her against the counter, his hands settling against her hips. He turned his face into her neck and let his lips travel over her skin.

She let out a quiet sigh and hissed his name when his teeth grazed over her collarbone. “Rafa.”

His hands drifted down to where the hem of his shirt lay against the top of her thighs. Lifting her, he sat her on the counter. Moving between her legs, he let his hands travel up her thighs to her hips.

“This shirt looks better on you than it does on me,” he rumbled quietly.

“Oh, I don’t know. It looked quite good on you last night.” She cupped his face and drew him into another kiss, teasing his lips with her tongue. When her legs wrapped around him he pulled back from the kiss.

“As nice as this is – and it’s _very_ nice – I made breakfast,” he indicated the bowl of eggs sat on the table. “I hope that’s okay?”

She slid off the counter and reached for one of the cups of coffee as he went back to the toast. “Let me think, a handsome man stood in my kitchen making me breakfast after a wonderful night of passion? No, that is completely unacceptable,” she quipped, before taking a sip.

“Oh, I’ll throw it out then, shall I?” He picked up the plate of toast and moved towards the bin.

“Don’t you dare,” she said, causing Rafael to laugh. She collected cutlery from the drawer next to the sink and moved to the table. “Seriously though, you didn’t have to do this.”

He put the plate down on the table and sat opposite her. “You should always make breakfast for a beautiful woman the first time you’ve spent the night with her.”

“I’m going to go out on a limb here and guess that that piece of chivalrous advice didn’t come from your grandfather?”

Rafael gave her a half smile. “Actually, it did.” He picked up a plate and began serving up breakfast. “Not that he got much chance to put it into practice. He and my abuelita were married for over 50 years when he died. They met when they were nineteen and were married within a year. It was a love like I’d never known. Before I went off to college he sat me down and told me that just because ‘morals were looser in modern America’, didn’t mean I could forget how to treat a woman with respect.” He handed Olivia the plate he had been preparing before making up another for himself. “He’s the one who taught me to scramble an egg too.”

Olivia took a bite of the aforementioned eggs. “Mmm. It seems I have a lot to thank your grandfather for; these are delicious.”

Silence fell as they ate, comfortable, not awkward as they’d both feared it might be. They both knew that transitioning from friends to lovers wasn’t always easy. But so far, they seemed to be managing.

Once they’d eaten, Olivia insisted on clearing up. He’d cooked, she would clean; it was only fair. As she stood at the sink, rinsing the plates in preparation for putting them in the dishwasher, Rafael walked up behind her. He wrapped his arms around her waist and rested his chin on her shoulder.

“What time do you have to pick up Noah?”

“Amanda said to get him whenever I was ready. Why?”

“Just thinking.” He nudged the collar of her shirt aside and placed a gentle kiss to her skin. “Do you have plans for the rest of the day?”

She shook her head. “Nothing set in stone. Noah and I never made it to the park yesterday, so we’ll probably aim to do that today.” Between grocery shopping and laundry, there hadn’t been time before Amanda had picked him up for his sleepover with Jesse.

“We’ll take him to lunch first and then we can stop by the park on the way home.”

“I… erm… okay.” She hadn’t really known what to expect of the day, but she’d assumed that they would go their separate ways. She had Noah to take care of and he had a trial to prepare for. Whilst he didn’t seem to mind spending time with Noah – she knew he got a kick out of being ‘Uncle Rafa’ – she didn’t want to make any assumptions about Rafael’s role in his life going forward.

At Olivia’s hesitant response, it occurred to him that he was being rather presumptuous. “That is… if you don’t mine me gate-crashing your Sunday?” he added.

“No. Not at all.” She dried her hands and turned in his embrace. “You’re more than welcome to join us. I just wasn’t expecting the offer; I thought you’d have work to do.”

“The trial has been pushed back to Tuesday, so I have a free day to spend with my two favourite people.” He offered her a half smile, almost embarrassed by his words.

“In that case, lunch and a trip to the park sounds like the perfect way to spend my Sunday.”

“I’ll need to swing by my apartment and change first.”

She pressed her lips together and tilted her head. “How about this, I’ll get Noah while you go home for a shower and change of clothes, then we’ll pick you up and go for lunch?”

“Counter offer; we shower here. Together. Then we can head to my place, I’ll change and then we’ll go and pick up Noah together.” It was pathetic really, but he didn’t want to be apart from her from any longer than was necessary. He watched as she considered his offer and saw a flicker of doubt cross her face. He knew exactly why that was. “I’ll wait in the car, if you want. So Rollins doesn’t ask any difficult questions.”

“Offer accepted,” she said with a smile. She was grateful that he understood her apprehension. The start of any new relationship could be tricky to negotiate, and she’d rather not advertise this development to her squad just yet.

She stepped out of his embrace and placed the breakfast dishes in the dishwasher. She closed the door and switched it on before turning back to Rafael. Her fingers toyed with the buttons on her shirt, teasing him. She backed out of the kitchen, his eyes following her, trailing over her body. Leaning against the wall of the archway, she unfastened the first button revealing more of her cleavage. “Now, I believe you said something about a shower…”


End file.
